How to Say Goodbye
by AnthroQueen
Summary: Goodbye. So long. Farewell. Au revoir. There were many ways to say goodbye and Kate Austen hated every single one of them.


**Hi there! I honestly wasn't sure if I was going to write another Lost story, mainly because the show is over and I pretty much got all of my feelings about it out in the last story I posted. But then I was at rehearsal for my dance showcase, heard this lovely song entitled "How to Say Goodbye" by Paul Tiernan, and got an idea for a story. I get inspired by the simplest things haha. So please enjoy and constructive criticism is always welcome! Thanks!**

**This is an introspective look on Kate Austen's life, so it spans the entire series. The song is "How to Say Goodbye" by Paul Tiernan and I definitely recommend listening to it. It's a beautiful song!  
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><p><span>How to Say Goodbye<span>

_Leaving isn't quite the same, he said to me, as running away  
>If you're scared or tired of what you're scared of<br>Well, why should you stay?_

_He loved to say goodbye  
>And always counted out the time<br>Until he was free to get up and leave  
>To learn how to breathe<br>Again_

Kate Austen was born to run.

Walking at ten months and sprinting by thirteen, running was in her blood. Growing up, she would challenge everyone around her to races; her parents, her neighbors, her childhood sweetheart Tom. They were too slow for her, though; they lagged too far behind and would call for her to slow down- _Katie, take it easy! You're going too fast!_ When she was much younger, her father would joke around with her, saying if she ran any faster, her feet would burn holes through the ground. She used to hope that was true; lying in bed every night, she'd listen to the sounds of the crickets and June bugs mating and hope she could wake up in the morning and run to California, to New York, to Florida… _anywhere_ that would get her out of this sleepy Iowa town.

But although Kate loved to run, she hated the reasoning behind it.

Before the divorce, running and leaving had all been a silly game. She and Tom would play tag, hide and seek, manhunt- all of those childish games that never posed a threat of someone getting hurt. Every now and then, when Kate would pick an especially good hiding place, she would get this sudden rush of adrenaline, mixed with fear and panic; what if Tom _didn't_ find her? What if she was so well hidden no one else would ever find her again? This idea thrilled her and she began to dream up new identities and plans for herself- she'd move to Australia, she'd be a movie star, she'd own a beachfront condo with a butler at her beck and call. And just when she'd prepared herself to leave, Tom would pop out of nowhere, grinning teeth gleaming in the sunlight as he yelled, _Gotcha!_

But Diane Janssen had other plans for herself and, coinciding with this, for her daughter. She didn't want to live the lie anymore and filed for divorce as Sam Austen prepared to say goodbye. And it was only then that Kate saw the _other_ side of running away- the side that was left behind, in the aftermath, to wallow in sorrow and regret. When Sam had dragged his suitcases out of the front door towards his car and five-year-old Kate had sprinted after him, begging to go with him, he had regretfully told her to stay behind with her mother, that this was for the best, that it was time to say goodbye.

"It's just a game, Daddy," Kate had pleaded. "Right? You're running away and I have to come find you?"

"No kiddo. It's time for me to leave," Sam had sighed. "And leaving isn't quite the same as running away. When you run away, you don't have to say goodbye."

He had pulled Kate into a hug as she clung to him, sobbing, and whispered, "Goodbye Katie," as he prepared to leave her.

And that's when Kate realized, all those years ago, that running away wasn't the hard part. Running was easy.

Goodbyes, however, were _not_.

From that day on, whenever Kate needed to run, which was often, because no one ever gave her a reason to stay, she'd cut out the goodbyes. She wouldn't think twice about dashing out of the house, late for school, or wishing Tom and his family a fun-filled summer vacation, not knowing of their return. But then, her carefree lifestyle had come to a screeching halt when she learned that the alcoholic, adulterous, wife-beating man that her mother had married after Sam Austen was her biological father, because if Sam was in Korea, how could she have been conceived by _him_? Kate, shocked and horrified, distraught and angry, did not run away, this time.

This time, she ran _back_.

It was an eerie feeling, watching the house she grew up in, the house that used to be _home_, explode into fiery bits of broken glass and plywood. The trees surrounding the house immediately succumbed to the flames as Kate sped away, leaving the awful, leering memories to burn to the ground with the man she hated more than anything in this world. She left the grounds satisfied, angry, and terrified of what would come next. But Kate did not say goodbye, because she _hated_ goodbyes. Besides, if there was one thing her step-father had taught her all those years ago, it was that goodbyes were attached to _feelings_.

And driving away from the burning wreckage, Kate didn't feel anything at all.

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><p><em>Slipping out to have a cigarette with someone else<br>That he'd never met  
>Ask her if, by the way, would she like to run away?<br>And try to forget  
>Or just not to stay<br>To leave without saying why_

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><p>From then on, Kate's life was a whirlwind of lies, tricks, and running away.<p>

But not once did she ever say goodbye. Not once did she want to. Not once did anyone try to make her stay.

U.S. Marshall Edward Mars had thought he had been so clever in figuring out where Kate was, but thankfully she was quicker and thankfully, she had seen that stray horse that ran them off the road. From there, she did what she did best- she ran as far away and as fast as she could, leaving the guilt, the sorrow, the regret behind. Not once did she feel ashamed of her actions; if anything she felt she had done the _right_ thing. Saving her mother from a lifetime of hell had been her only option and to think that her lineage was tainted by such a despicable human being is just utterly repulsive. If she hadn't killed him then, she would have done it eventually.

Meeting with Cassidy Phillips had been a freak accident but it turned out to be completely worth it in the end. Not only had she found someone completely vengeful and deceitful as she was, but Kate had actually found a true friend in Cassidy- a friend is something Kate wasn't familiar with, considering the only person she'd ever been friends with was Tom, whom she hadn't had much contact with, lately. But even as friendly as she became with Cassidy and even as she confided in her with her deepest secrets, Kate still felt as detached as ever as she left Cassidy behind without an explanation.

But then Tom had reentered her life and Kate found herself falling for him again just as she had in high school. Giggling like schoolchildren and fingernails caked with dirt, they sat against that grand oak tree and rifled through the forgotten contents of their time capsule, reliving memories that blanketed the air like a comfortable old quilt. Tom filled her in on his life- his wife of a few years, visiting her family that weekend with their infant son, almost two years old. Kate listened in awe and in envy- it was everything _she_ had once wanted with Tom, at a time. They used to lie on their backs in the grassy field behind his house and talk all about the things they'd have when they were older and married. Tom wanted the house with a backyard big enough for neighborhood barbeques and a swimming pool, the job with its own office and secretary, the doting wife and children that greeted him warmly whenever he got home. Kate just wanted to run.

In the end, Tom had gotten what he wanted. But then again, Kate had, too.

Tom had promised to smuggle Kate into the hospital to see her mother as long as she would not cause a scene. But a scene was inevitably caused when Diane, frightened for her life, screamed murderously for help at the mere sight of her daughter and Kate and Tom had desperately fled the scene. She didn't know where she was going; she was driving blindly, cutting people off, running red lights and desperately avoiding the police cars chasing her viciously down the street. When she finally thought they were free, she turned in panic to find Tom, slumped over with a dime-sized hole in his skull. Time immediately stopped and she felt like vomiting as she screamed, pleaded with Tom to wake up. But he did not, for blood continued to ooze out of his brain, his appendages already going cold. Kate had left Iowa so Tom could fulfill his dreams, because she knew that if she stayed, she would ruin them for him.

But what do you know? She'd left him and had still managed to ruin _everything_.

Without a goodbye or even expression of her feelings for him, Kate had fled on foot, leaving the busted car with her deceased childhood best friend behind. She somehow managed to find herself in Florida, married to a police officer- of _all_ things- named Kevin Callis under the alias "Monica." But even then, she felt out of place. She loved Kevin, or at least she thought she did, but even then, she couldn't settle into the homemaker role Kevin wanted her to. When she drugged and left him, she hadn't bothered to say goodbye to him either, but instead wondered what she had become. That optimistic child who had run across the Iowa fields had somehow turned into a lying, deceitful, murderous young adult. But how?

The last straw had been working on Ray Mullen's farm. Ray was someone Kate actually felt cared about her and she had even considered confiding in him as she did with Cassidy. Arriving at his farm, she was still a bit shaken up over the toy airplane situation at the bank, which of course had only added more charges to the warrant for her arrest, and she needed the Australian countryside to soothe her. Ray had reminded her of her step-father; warm and giving, but firm and unrelenting. This is why it shocked her so incredibly much when he turned her in to Mars. Ray didn't get a goodbye either. He didn't deserve one.

Then again, no one really did.

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><p><em>To get up and go<br>To catch the last train  
>To get in some car<br>And drive out again  
>To never come back this way…<br>And have to say_

_Goodbye  
>So long<br>Farewell  
>Au revoir<em>

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><p>Kate Austen didn't run because she was afraid to face her problems.<p>

She ran because she was afraid to say goodbye.

No one ever tried to make her stay. Her parents always encouraged her running, especially lately, since her mother wanted nothing to do with her and her step-father had no interest in associating with a fugitive. Her significant others either never knew or never cared when she left and even Tom had not stopped her when she decided to leave home. No one had ever bothered to ask Kate to stay, no one had bothered to tell her running was tiring and she was wearing herself out, no one had ever wondered _why_ she ran all the time or why she'd want to.

No one, except for Jack.

_If that had been me_, Kate remembered saying as she sewed up Jack's wound that very first day on the Island. _I'd have run for the door_. He had shaken his head despite her statement, despite his lack of knowledge of her character, despite not even knowing her _name_, and responded, _No, I don't think that's true. You're not running now_. And Kate had realized that was true. There was something about Jack Shephard that made Kate feel undeniably safe and as time went on, her obsessive need to run fell to pieces. Instead of running _from_ Jack, she began to run _to_ him. He became her source of security, happiness, and love. The need to run diminished when he was around, but the fear of saying goodbye grew larger and larger.

And the very first time Kate _didn't_ want to run was the time Jack was telling her to.

_Kate, damn it, run!_ His pleading, angry request still rang in her ears as she sprinted through the sodden jungle with Sawyer, each step guiltier than the last as she grew farther and farther away from him. Two thoughts ran through her mind at that point in time- one was the fact that she and Sawyer had less than an hour to make it to the beach where they would hopefully make it to their Island. The other was that she didn't get to say goodbye to Jack. And this was completely unacceptable to Kate, because she doesn't _say_ goodbye, to anyone, ever. The fact that she wanted to meant that her feelings for Jack ran deeper than she had first believed.

They ran deeper, still, as they somehow managed to find themselves off of the Island, engaged, cohabitating, and raising Aaron as if he were their own. She loved Jack and their life had been perfect, but the memories of whom they left behind haunted Jack until the immense guilt he felt ate away at him and their flimsy façade shattered. She had cried herself to sleep that night, twisting her engagement ring around her finger over and over again, refusing to believe they were over, but the sinking pit in her stomach told her otherwise. When she'd woken up the following morning and rolled over to meld her body against Jack's, she'd come face to face with the cold sheets and empty pillow and began to cry all over again.

She was still a firm believer that it really was not all misery. But Jack's somber, _Enough of it was_, wasn't a lie.

And yet, that wasn't a time she wanted to run away, either. The worst was on that damn cliff on the Island as she watched a bleeding, desperate Jack say his final goodbyes to Sawyer and prepare to take off with Hurley and Ben. He had hobbled over and she knew it was goodbye by the look on his face, but even though her mind was sending off warning signals, even though her head was telling her to run, her heart begged her to stay. And lately, she hadn't been one for thinking before she acted. So as much as she wanted to run away, as much as she wanted to leave without saying goodbye, as much as she wanted to go and escape the _pain_, she stayed, because the look on Jack's face said it all.

It was as if something was rooting her to the spot and she couldn't have moved even if she wanted to. Tears fell from both sets of eyes as their lips met in a passionate embrace. They pulled each other closer, wanting to take in as much of the other one as possible, knowing their time was short-lived. And when it was over, after they had expressed their undying love for each other, Jack had stepped away, turned, and headed up the hill, unsteadily with Hurley and Ben on either side. And Kate? Kate still hadn't moved an inch. She stood and cried as Sawyer called out awkwardly to her, telling her they needed to find Claire, but still, Kate hadn't moved. She knew that was the last time she'd ever see Jack in this lifetime and although it had been the kiss of a lifetime, it hadn't been _enough_.

Because she didn't get to say goodbye.

But today? Today is different.

Today, Kate is not on the Island. She's not fighting for her life in a sinking submarine with a bullet wound half-healing, half-spurting blood in her shoulder. She isn't with Jack, Sawyer, or Hurley. She is alone. She doesn't have to climb hills or rough terrain. She drives. And she doesn't have to worry about getting Claire home to Aaron, because the mother-son duo had been reunited six weeks ago. Instead, Kate is oddly serene, calmly driving down the highway in her sleek BMW she'd bought with the compensation money from Ajira Airways. She isn't paying attention to where she's driving; her mind is elsewhere, but her body knows just where to go, and she ends up at the correct destination anyway.

It's been a month and a half since Kate's return to Los Angeles and honestly, she had been okay. She had been helping Claire raise Aaron, visiting Cassidy every so often, and even keeping in touch with Sawyer. She'd gotten a job with steady hours and a decent enough salary, and expected her parole officer once a month. She'd tried to keep herself busy, to keep her mind off of the past, and for the most part, she had been okay. The first night had been the hardest, but things had honestly gotten easier as time droned on.

But that morning, as Kate had prepared to go for a run around their quiet neighborhood, a car pulled into their driveway and when Kate squinted, she saw Hurley in the passenger seat. Completely shocked, she jogged over to him and greeted him with a huge hug, which he responded to happily. But something was on his mind, she could tell, and she invited him in for a cup of coffee. They talked about the obvious first- how Claire and Aaron were doing, how Hurley got leave of Island duties for the afternoon, how the weather had been- before Hurley finally confronted the elephant in the room.

"So Kate…" He had sighed. "We found Jack yesterday."

Kate's heart had pounded even louder and she sat up a little straighter. "You found him? What do you mean you found him?"

Hurley, his eyes rising to meet hers, frowned, understanding she'd gotten the wrong idea. "I mean we found his body, Kate. We were walking through the jungle and heard Vincent howling. We followed the sound and… there he was."

Kate knew Jack was dead; she _knew_ it. But still, something inside her, some tiny piece of optimism was glimmering and had hoped for Hurley to lead her outside to the shiny black sedan he had arrived in only to open the door and have Jack step out. Tears began to slowly slide down her cheeks as Hurley continued, "We got Rose and Bernard together and we buried him next to Boone. We said a few words… It was nice. He looked peaceful, Kate. I don't think he suffered long."

But this was too much and as Kate began to weep even harder, tears began flowing from Hurley's eyes too, and together the two mourned the loss of Jack Shephard. What she had already known had been confirmed that very morning- Jack was gone. And once again, she didn't get to say goodbye.

So now, she parks beside the grassy flatland outside of the cemetery and exits the car, locking it behind her as she heads up the narrow, beaten path. She can feel grains of dirt in her ballet flats, but ignores them and scans the rows of headstones for the one below a grand weeping willow. Kate and Margo Shephard had buried an empty casket the week after the former had returned from the Island and informed the latter of her son's passing and Kate herself had insisted upon the placing of his grave below the willow tree. When asked why, her answer was always the same. "Weeping willows bend, but they never break. We depended on Jack for everything and not once did he let us down."

Crouching below the branches of the willow tree, Kate sits directly in front of Jack's grave and leans forward to kiss the cool headstone. This is not the first time she's been here and it certainly won't be the last, but it is the first time she's been since finding out with certainty of Jack's death. She has so many things she wants to say to him, so many things are new within her life and she has so much she wants to catch him up on, but she can't organize her thoughts into words. Instead, Kate whispers as soft as the cool breeze that sounds, the one thing she's wanted to say since the very last time she laid eyes on Jack Shephard.

"Goodbye Jack," Kate finally says through tears, gaining the closure she's begged for since she returned. "I love you."

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><p><em>Goodbye<br>So long  
>Farewell<br>Au revoir_

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><p>If there was one thing her step-father taught her, it was that running away and leaving were not the same thing. Leaving meant saying goodbye and Kate learned quickly that saying goodbye was the most painful experience a person could have. So she learned to cut out the goodbyes; she ran from every situation in life, good, bad, or otherwise. No one ran after her. No one questioned her. No one tried to make her stay. No one gave her a reason to.<p>

Except Jack Shephard.

The one person who gave her a reason to stay was the one person who couldn't stay for her.

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><p><em>Goodbye…<em>


End file.
